State of grace
by EvaCampos
Summary: Some days alone can be a rest, but sometimes the silence turns your thoughts into screams that need to be calmed. Destiel one-shot.
It was hard. It was hard to drive not knowing where to go. But it was better this way.

The music was pounding on his ears, all windows closed. He wasn't even paying attention until a familiar voice, a feminine one, interrupted his thoughts with high notes and a loud drum to go with her sweet voice.

 _I never saw you coming… And I'll never be the same again…_

It was late at night and he had tuned on a random radio station to fill the silence. He gripped the wheel tighter. He knew what he had said back in the bunker would have enormous consequences and he wasn't feeling ready for them. He knew Castiel could appear any second he wanted, but Dean prayed silently for the angel to wait. To let him be if only for a few hours.

There was a light rain wetting the pavement, darkening the night even more. Tiny droplets ran down the windshield, getting wiped every now and then. What was the point? It had all been fired by desperation, Cas would understand. He didn't mean what he said… or did he?

 _So you were never a saint, and I loved in shades of wrong…_

All their time together. Everything about stopping the Apocalypse, the whole Leviathan mess, soulless Sam, Metatron, the angels… And now the mark. That goddamned mark that seemed to go nowhere. And the nightmares he was having every night. The nightmares of a written fate of his end. With him killing Sam. And Castiel. And everyone in between.

And he was left alone with his thoughts for days, and the despair had started to crawl. And the pictures on his head kept popping at the most unexpected times. At the first bite of his burger, he could hear the sound of Sam's cheekbones cracking under his knuckles. When he was washing his face, he could feel the warmth of Castiel's blood on his hands and chin. And when he grabbed a beer out of the fridge, there were the heads of each and every one of his friends, eyes opened and jaws clenched looking right at him.

When Castiel arrived, flutter of wings filling the library, Dean was clenched on a corner, scratching the arm with the mark, eyes red and fingers bloody. Castiel walked to him and wrapped his arms around the hunter, brushing his hair with his fingers, sending grace through them to heal the scratches and bruises that he was sure Dean had inflicted on himself. Within seconds, Dean was sound asleep. A dreamless sleep.

Sam had walked right behind Castiel, and just let him do his thing, retreating to his room, defeated for not having any clue on the mark either.

 _We learned to live with the pain, mosaic broken hearts…_

When Dean woke up, he was being watched by the angel from a corner of the room. An angel that walked to him and sat right there beside him, watching his hands.

"I… I don't wanna die."

"I know. I won't let you. We won't let you."

Tears were about to roll down his cheeks, but he held them back. He remembered the conversation he had with that priest a few weeks back, about how he wanted to experience things, people and feelings, differently. The warmth radiating from Cas' body was calming, his breath even. Dean felt his heart beating closer to normal than before and, somehow, the burden on his shoulders felt much more lighter. He looked up at Castiel until the angel looked back.

Dean raised a hand and let it rest on Cas' shoulder, trying to smile, but failing. The gaze of blue focused on his lips as the hunter cleared his throat.

"I… I love you, Cas."

Castiel looked shocked if only for a second before his features softened again. He also mimicked Dean's movements and rested a hand on the man's shoulder.

"I know. We're friends, Dean. And I'm starting to believe we will always be. And I'm glad."

Dean let his hand fall from its place on Castiel's trench coat and looked away, biting his lip and rising from the bed. He brushed a hand down his face and made his way out of the room.

Castiel stood in place, confusion all over him until a spark of realisation hit him on the chest. He walked behind Dean, but stopped when the hunter reached for his car keys and took off from the bunker. He knew Dean liked to think things through while driving and that his car had always been his safe haven, his anchor, his greatest representation of home. And he also needed to think certain things and their implications.

His feelings had always been overwhelming when Dean was around, but he didn't have a name for it. He had given everything for the man, and it all always seemed so little compared with the things Dean had sacrificed for him, his brother and the world. He had always known Dean's heart was full with love, but never thought some piece of that love was ever directed to him personally. And that thought put him out of balance.

 _But this love is brave and wild…_

Dean stopped the car in the middle of the road. Luckily enough, it was pretty much empty. He pulled to the side and let his head fall to the wheel, breathing fast and with his chest aching for a reason unknown. His knuckles were white and his fingers clenched and his mouth dry and his face hot… And he prayed.

Within seconds, Castiel was seated by his side, looking out the window to the clouds that were starting to fly away and clearing the sky, The moonlight was falling on little streams and one of those felt directly to Dean's face, that was still hiding on the wheel. He raised it and looked straight into the angel's eyes that were only a spark in the night.

"I meant it. I'm sorry, but I meant it."

"I know… I mean, I know now. And I…"

Dean looked at Castiel with such intensity that the angel felt as if, somehow, the man by his side could see inside his grace, as if he could feel the swirls and sparks on it. He smiled softly at the hunter and reached at his hands, intertwining their fingers.

 _This is a state of grace… This is the worthwhile fight…_

Dean smiled and gripped Castiel's hand tighter and drove back to the bunker, radio off.


End file.
